The Beijing Incident
by LunaOlivia
Summary: Clint has gotten himself into some trouble and now Natasha has to come and try to save him...only question is, can they make it out of this alive? Some Clintasha of course First Avenger fic ever, please be gentle! R&R please, T for safety
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: Okay, so this is my first attempt at an Avengers fic and it's definitely my first time trying to write about Clint and Natasha so please forgive an errors I have or if their personalities don't match up perfectly with their movie/comic counterparts. This is mostly based off of the movieverse so some things could be totally wrong, but feel free to review and correct my mistakes ^_^ I welcome constructive criticism!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D, or Black Widow and Hawkeye. They belong to Marvel unfortunately. **

Natasha reread the manila folder that contained all of the information she would have to know about her new alias for about the fifth time. She had it memorized by now but it was calming to ascertain her facts, to make sure she knew every single detail. She was heading to Beijing because Clint had landed himself in a bit of a mess and needed an extraction. If the mission could be salvaged then that was what they would have to do but if it was completely wrecked she was to retrieve him and fly their asses back to the states as quickly as possible. She had a feeling that would be the outcome of this little venture going off of what Fury said. Clint really did have a knack for getting himself into tight positions. And she was always there to get him out of them.

This time was no different of course. She changed on the plane, deciding her ripped and bloody clothing didn't quite fit with her new alias as a French heiress. That was an identity that required a little more finesse and maybe a little more skin showing. She smirked a bit, knowing that wearing these short dresses and high heels made men go a little crazy sometimes. It was really how she could infiltrate so many high-class places and went completely undetected until it was too late. She stripped out of her dirty clothing, took a quick shower to wash the blood and dirt from her skin, and shimmied into the skin-tight cocktail dress that barely brushed over her thighs and stepped into the heels waiting for her in the bathroom. She fluffed her hair a bit, applied smoky eye make-up and crimson lipstick before moving back into the main area of the plane.

That had only taken about an hour and she still had another twenty or thirty minutes to go. Sometimes these plane rides could really be a pain in the rear. She liked being in action, moving and doing something. This sitting around and waiting for something to happen was annoying and it gave her time to think about things she'd rather forget about. Like the fact that she was so sore because the KGB decided she was better off dead than alive. Or the fact that her partner could be in a very deadly situation right now. None of it made her feel any better about her current situation. She'd been heading home, finally, when Fury called her and told her she had to go to Beijing. If it had been anyone other than Clint in trouble, she would have turned Fury down and continued on home. But it was Clint and she would never abandon her partner just as he would never abandon her. It was a mutual trust thing they had going. He saved her ass and she saved his. It worked. Mostly.

The whole Loki incident had shaken both of them for a while to put it lightly. It had taken almost three months for Clint to look at her when he spoke and to spar with her again. He said it was nothing that he just needed to readjust after having Loki messing around inside his head. She knew it was more though. Clint had needed time to come to terms with the fact that he'd been perfectly fine with killing all of them when Loki had him. That he almost killed her. She told him she was fine, she never would have let him kill her but he refused to accept her comforting words. He'd trapped her with the Hulk and he had seen how much that still terrified her. She could barely stand next to Banner without trembling still. Every time he was in the room her mind flashed back to that horrible green beast chasing her down in the Hellicarrier. She'd been helpless for the first time in her life and that had terrified her. The only thing that brought her out of that pit of fear was hearing that Clint was nearby. She'd been determined to stop him. And she had, even if he saw it differently.

She sighed again and looked out her window. There were lights below her, far away from the jet, and she hoped that meant they were growing closer to their destination. Beijing was a big place but Fury had sent her the address and coordinates of Clint's hotel which meant she shouldn't have problems finding him. As long as he wasn't running around trying to fix his problem on his own. Which was yet another thing he was prone to doing, especially since the Loki incident. Loki had really messed him up in the head and even if he was mostly back to the Clint she knew well, she also knew that the scars form Loki's time in his head would always be there. The fact that not many of the other S.H.I.E.L.D agents trusted him after that fight didn't really help him out much. Those fears and the distrust were gone but Clint still felt the need to prove himself and show he was S.H.I.E.L.D and not Loki's minion.

_"We'll be landing in five minutes, Agent Romanoff_._"_

Thank God. She was ready to be off this plane already. Ready to get down on the ground and get Clint out of trouble. Again. It was her hobby these days, saving him. It was usually rather enjoyable though, which always surprised her. More than likely it was because they rarely went on missions together anymore. Fury thought having them separated for a while would do them good. He said they were too attached, too dependent. Natasha didn't see it but Clint didn't argue so neither did she. Recently Fury had been letting them go on missions here and there together. The big ones. They were partners and when they were together no one could beat them. After all, they were the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D had to offer.

She felt the wheels touch down on ground and smiled a little. Finally, things were getting started.


	2. Chapter 1

**The number of followers and favorites on the first chapter has made me so happy! I can't believe how many people liked this story, I was a little nervous about posting it to be honest but y'all are making me hopeful that maybe I didn't totally screw up . Anyway, here's the next chapter and I hope y'all enjoy this one too! :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D, or Black Widow and Hawkeye. They belong to Marvel unfortunately. **

Clint couldn't believe how shitty this mission had gone already. He'd arrived in Beijing three days ago and was greeted by his asset inside the organization of drug and arms smugglers he was supposed to infiltrate. It was supposed to be a quick mission. Pretend to be a buyer, meet the big boss, find the stashed guns and drugs, destroy everything and make sure the boss went down with it. Easy enough and something he'd done on numerous occasions. Granted, on all the other occasions Natasha had been there and she'd done the infiltrating since she could slip into a scrap of cloth that somehow passed as a dress and no one would question her. It was amazing to see her simply walk up to the biggest and baddest bosses in the world and turn them into mush with a simple smile. He couldn't really do that. And this mission proved that.

Han Nutian was supposed to be an easy assignment though. He was big and he was bad but apparently he was also a little stupid. Unfortunately for Clint, his men weren't. They knew the faces of just about every American assassin or agent out there. He wouldn't be surprised if they even had Natasha's face on a tack board somewhere. Clint hadn't even made it passed the front gate with his asset before he was being shot at. How his asset didn't know that Nutian's men were expecting him was something he would never know since that asset was now dead. Great first day on the mission. He had thought he could salvage the mission somehow on his own, without needing to call Fury and let him know just how bad the first day had gone. He was wrong. Again.

Day two and he was trying to follow the trucks and vans carrying Nutian's products through the confusing streets of Beijing. That was a failure. The drivers were skilled and knew the streets here better than he did. A lot better. He could keep up with the trucks for about a mile or two before they disappeared into the chaos that was Beijing. It was hard for him to finally put in a call to Fury. And Fury hadn't even been available. He figured that was a sign that maybe, just maybe this mission wasn't a complete bust just yet. He could save this and tell Fury he called to let him know things were going as planned. And then Nutian decided it was time to move. He packed all of his men and his furniture up overnight and was gone the next morning.

That was how Clint, who never touched alcohol, ended up in a bar with some Chinese woman he didn't even know, completely wasted. He'd lost track of how many shots he'd had and to be quite honest he didn't care. Fury had been pissed of course when Clint finally got through to him and he'd ordered the archer to stay put and wait for further instructions. By that, Clint knew he meant wait for backup and try not to die before it could get to him. He hoped they were sending him Natasha. She would figure this mess out and be able to get much closer to Nutian than Clint could ever dream. He didn't think they would have her listed as an American agent since according to the Russians, she was technically dead. That had been a shocker to hear from Fury before he left on this mission.

He knew Natasha had gone back to Russia because for some unknown reason the KGB wanted to see her. S.H.I.E.L.D didn't have her officially listed as an agent because they knew the KGB would still be watching her after she abandoned them. They wouldn't hesitate to send someone to kill her if they knew she was now an American agent. Russians didn't take kindly to betrayal. At all. And that was why Clint had been nervous about Natasha heading back to Russia where her past could come back to haunt her. He's saved her from that once, he wasn't sure he could do it again. Fury told him that the KGB officially marked her down as KIA three days before he left for Beijing. He assured Clint it was a false report since Natasha had been in contact with him hours before and said the announcement would be going out. Apparently the KGB didn't want to let the whole world know that one of their agents had gone rogue and they couldn't take care of her. In his opinion, it only made their jobs a whole lot easier if everyone thought she was dead. Which was the only reason he would be okay letting her go into Nutian's place alone if it was her Fury sent for him.

He slammed his glass back down on the bar, letting out a heavy sigh and wincing as the tequila burned down his throat. The fact that the tequila actually felt kind of good going down his throat was probably a bad sign but he really didn't care anymore. The tequila was keeping the nerves at bay and helping him forget the shit that had gone down these past couple of days. He really didn't feel like thinking about any of that which was why he had taken to drinking tonight. He hadn't touched alcohol since his twenty-first birthday and even then he'd only had about two beers and then he'd been done. He hadn't ever felt the desire to drink any more than that even though he knew Natasha enjoyed a drink here and there during their missions. She said it was because she was Russian; she could handle her alcohol better than he could. Better than anyone as far as he knew. She'd drank more than one S.H.I.E.L.D agent under the table.

He glanced to the girl next to him, the one he couldn't even remember meeting. She had found him, he knew that much, but he also knew that he should probably be heading back to his room right now since Fury's backup would be arriving soon. At least, that's what he had been told. Hopefully it was the truth. He didn't think he could handle this much longer without some kind of help. He sighed, motioning for another drink and ignored the way the girl was inching closer and closer to him, her hand now resting on his thigh. He was pretty used to women coming onto him but that never made him like it any more. After all, if it meant people didn't bother him or look too closely then he could handle a few stray hands and lingering eyes. It was the easiest way to get what he wanted or needed when on a mission.

This little Chinese girl was not any different from the others so far and he wasn't sure if that was annoying or helpful. At least it kept him from looking completely out of place here. The men around him were all accompanied by women who were fawning over them and giggling, hands all over the place. It was a normal scene in a hotel bar like this one since most of the guests were rich and powerful men. And rich and powerful men always liked the company of beautiful young women. It was like a law of nature or something it seemed. If you had money then the women all flocked to you. Well, he didn't need money to keep the women next to him at least. Just one very nice suit and a handsome face. He smirked; Natasha gave him crap all the time because he was so confident in his ability to keep the women next to him. He was no match for her though. Men practically drooled when they saw her in those tiny little dresses.

As if on cue, he heard the clicking of heels growing closer and closer to him. He didn't have to turn around to know Natasha was coming toward him and he also didn't have to glance around at the men in the bar to know they were all staring at her. He heard a husky laugh he recognized all too well and waited as she drew even closer. The smell of vanilla and that sweet, subtle scent that always accompanied his partner wafted around him and he smiled a bit. He felt a little better already having her here, but that could very well be the alcohol. He doesn't turn in his seat as she draws even closer, instead he motions for another drink and downs it as she finally slides into the seat next to him.

He glances toward her and almost chokes on the newest shot of tequila the bartender has placed in front of him. He's seen her in small dresses before and he's even seen her in nothing but underwear but this dress was almost worse than that. It left little to the imagination to say the least. The material was charcoal in color and hugged her skin from her shoulders to about one fourth of the way down her thighs. Every curve in her body was highlighted in that dress and the heels on her feet were well over five inches and made her leg muscles flex and draw even more eyes to her body. At least S.H.I.E.L.D sent the best they could offer when he sent his S.O.S out. S.H.I.E.L.D never let him down when he really needed it.

She motioned for a drink, a smile gracing her lips as she flirted without even having to say a word, "Un, s'il vous plait."

He frowned, French? They were in China still right? He hadn't somehow traveled to another country without even realizing it, right? That would just be too insane and he was ninety percent sure he wasn't drunk enough to forget something like that. He turned in his seat slightly, the Chinese girl forgotten now as his partner took up residence beside him. They hadn't been on an op together in over two months, which was more than a little strange for the duo since usually they were put together on every single op. Fury said they were too dependent on one another, Clint thought he was just worried about what would happen if he ever went rogue again. Clint really couldn't blame Fury for that. They did need to learn how to deal with things by themselves. They were too comfortable, able to slip into the ease of protecting one another without even blinking. Watching Natasha's back was like breathing to him and he knew he didn't have to worry if she was around. That was a weakness.

Natasha turned to him then, a flirty little smile on her scarlet lips which were only a few shades darker than her hair, "Bonjour, beau."

He smiled, raising his glass and downing it, "Bonjour. Eh, Anglais?"

She giggled, effectively drawing the attention of a few men and nodded, "Oui, some."

He winked, "What is your name?"

"Anastasia Bellanger. And you are?" He had to admit, Natasha could pull off a French accent fit to fool anyone. Even a native from France would not be able to tell her accent was a fake. Too bad he'd too much to drink and his own accent was sounding less like he was from Germany and more like he was from Romania. This was why he did not drink because he was crap when he was wasted.

Natasha extended her hand to him and he placed a kiss on her knuckles, "Christof Ackerman."

She smiled demurely, all sly flirting and lustful gazes. He would never understand how easily she could slip into this personality almost without blinking. He had to really study his alias and practice a bit before he went out into the field. Natasha was trained to be the best though and she was proud to hold that title over his head whenever they went out on missions and he screwed up. Budapest was one example of his screw ups. He shook his head and turned his attention back to his partner who was practically in his lap now. She leaned forward, her breath brushing his ear as she whispered, "Perhaps we should move to your room now? You've got someone watching you at your six. Tall, blonde, black suit."

He glanced to the mirrored bar wall and notice who she's speaking about. He's definitely not like the rest of the men in this place who are letting the women drape themselves over their laps. He is completely alone, his eyes darting around the room periodically before resting once more on the duo. Clint gave a curt nod, "That would be wise I think."

Natasha let out a little laugh, the sound turning even more heads, before standing and brushing her hand across his back. He stood, leaving money on the bar, and followed her toward the elevator. The man in the black suit stood and followed him from the bar. Clint worked to keep his feet steady beneath him but if Natasha didn't have her hand in the crook of his elbow he would have fallen already. He would never drink again, that was for sure. Natasha was moving quicker now that the elevator was growing closer without making it look like she was in any kind of rush. Passerby probably just saw two tipsy people laughing and being obnoxious as they made their way to the elevators.

To the man though, they were his targets. Clint didn't know if Natasha had been found out yet or not but he was one hundred percent sure the man knew who he was. He'd had to kill more than one of Nutian's men on his way back here tonight, his face was probably plastered all over the bastard's mansion by now for his men to memorize. They reached the elevator and Natasha pushed the up arrow, hanging onto him while also holding him up as she continued to watch their tail without being completely obvious. The elevator dinged and they stepped inside. The man stepped in as well and Clint cursed inwardly. So much for Natasha starting out quietly. The doors slid shut.

The man turned when the doors were fully closed, gun in his hand. He grabbed Natasha's arm and yanked her against his chest, gun pointed at her head, "My employer would like a word with you."

Clint very nearly rolled his eyes. You didn't just _grab_ Natasha Romanoff and get away with it without a few major injuries and plenty of broken bones. This guy was seriously asking for it. Clint kept the smirk from his face somehow though and gave a small shrug, feeling a little more clear-headed given the adrenaline rushing through his veins. A good fight always got his blood pumping, "You mean Han Nutian? I was under the impression he wanted me dead, not a civilized chat."

The man narrowed his eyes, shoving the gun more firmly against the underside of Natasha's jaw. Clint could almost see the annoyance in her eyes as he jostled her a bit, "He's changed his mind. Come with me quietly or I'll kill this girl."

Clint gave another shrug and waved off the man's threats, "Go for it. I only just met her at the bar; she doesn't mean anything to me except a good distraction."

That threw the man for a loop. Apparently Natasha's picture wasn't posted in Nutian's mansion or he would have seen the ass-kicking Natasha handed to him two seconds later. She slammed her head into his face, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the gun fell from his hand and slamming her knee into his gut. He fell to his knees, gasping and looking more than a little shocked while Clint shook his head and crouched down in front of him, "What was that about killing her again?"

Natasha chuckled and slammed the gun into the man's forehead. He crumpled to the ground unconscious and Natasha turned to Clint, "You know, sometimes your ability to write me off as some cheap thing scares me. One of these days someone is going to take your word for it and shoot me."

Clint smirked, "Like you would let them."

Natasha smirked, "True. But the point is still valid."

**Okay! So hopefully this wasn't too terrible :/ I'm still trying to get a feel for the dynamics between Clint and Natasha so if something is off just shoot me a review and set me straight ^_^ Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Avengers, Black Widow, Hawkeye, or anything else related to them. That is all on Marvel (lucky ducks).**

**Author's note: So hopefully this isn't too terrible. So crap is going down IRL for me right now so this might be one of the last chapters I have up for a little while until things have settled down a bit. Unfortunately this isn't a very action-packed chapter but I hope it is still enjoyable. So…enjoy!**

Natasha couldn't believe how bad the situation was when she arrived. It was bad enough that a S.H.I.E.L.D agent was dead but Clint had to go and make things worse by getting himself drunk. He didn't drink, ever, so he was practically useless like this. He hadn't even noticed the man watching him across the bar and was sitting across from a mirrored wall which gave him the perfect view of the entire place. More than likely he sat where he did on instinct and didn't really understand the benefits behind it. She could see he was a little shaken when she found him, his German accent sounding as far from German as one could go without completely obliterating the accent. To say Clint was in trouble had been an understatement on Fury's part. Natasha had known Clint was pushing himself beyond his limits ever since the Loki incident but this was one push too far. And now she had to yank him back over the ledge so he wasn't free-falling anymore. Perfect.

She hadn't planned on having a hostage on her first night in Beijing but as it turned out their tail had been all too eager to engage them in the elevator. So she'd taken him down and now he could be useful to their mission. Plus, if they simply knocked him out and let him go back to Nutian she would be compromised and it would be pointless for her to have even come here. She already had a meeting set up with Nutian tomorrow and she wasn't about to blow that because some low-class thug thought he could fix all his master's problems with a few weak threats and a gun. She could get information out of him and maybe even use him at the meeting tomorrow. If he proved stubborn she'd just kill him and wait until after the meeting to let Nutian's men find the body. No need to make everyone suspicious before she'd even started her real job here. They needed to find out where Nutian kept his goods so they could destroy them along with him. If you took down a King but left the Empire a new King would simply take over. Destroy an Empire and then the King and there would be nothing left to salvage. In theory it sounded pretty legit so she figured it was worth a shot.

But blondie wasn't in a chatty mood and it had already been about two hours since they dragged him from the elevator to the penthouse suite Clint had checked into for the duration of his mission. At least it meant they wouldn't have any nosy neighbors trying to figure out why the guests were making so much noise. They had privacy up here and, she had to admit, a pretty fantastic view. Their guest seemed to be struggling with the beauty of it though with his head hanging out the window. Personally, she didn't understand why he was terrified. It wasn't like she was about to drop him. Yet. He was still somewhat useful even if he refused to talk. They now knew that Nutian was looking for Clint and he wasn't about to just let him get away. Hopefully his focus would remain on Clint for the duration of this mission. Things would go smoother and quicker if Nutian was distracted with trying to kill Clint while she slipped into his stash and destroyed it all before putting a bullet in his head.

"I don't think this is working, Tasha," Clint said at last with a sigh, pulling the blonde man back into the hotel rom. Natasha sighed, she hated to admit he was right but he was. This guy was refusing to crack and so far nothing they did was working to even make a dent in his outer shell. She'd dealt with tougher opponents and made them crack but she'd had more time then. Time to really find their weaknesses, time she did not have right now.

She turned from the man, walking across the hotel room and grabbing a bottle of wine from the small fridge in the kitchenette. She poured herself a glass, did _not_ offer any to Clint, and took a sip. They needed to figure this out and fast or she would have to go into that meeting tomorrow blind. She didn't like going in blind and Clint wasn't usually keen on letting her. She turned her attention to their prisoner who hadn't even given his name yet, "If you give me your name and the number of guards to expect tomorrow, I'll let you go. My partner won't even shoot you first, promise. So, tell me?"

The coy flirty play had worked a few times before but more often than not their prisoner would scoff and shrug her off when they were tough like this one. They knew a ploy when they saw one and they knew a lie when they heard one. This man was no different, "You lie. I know your faces; you will never let me go alive. I will tell you this: you are going to die here. My employer always gets even and right now you're at the top of his list."

Natasha smiled and bent down so they were eye to eye, "Your boss doesn't even know who I am yet. And you're not going to get a chance to tell him."

The man narrowed his eyes but said nothing else. Natasha didn't know if she felt some kind of respect for this man for being so steady and unbending or if she thought it was pathetic how attached he was to his master. Like a dog and its owner, really. She decided more than likely she felt like he was almost a reflection of what she used to be. The Red Room had complete control over her and she would have died to keep their secrets when she was younger. Now, not so much unless it was Clint she was protecting. Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D if she was feeling like the deserved her protection or needed it really. It kind of depended on her mood.

She glanced at Clint, "Can you handle him while I go to the meeting tomorrow? I can't have him running in and blowing my cover in the middle of the meeting. It wouldn't end well. For them at least. And the mission would be a failure."

Clint gave her a look that said _did you really just ask me that_? and gave a curt nod, "I can handle him."

The man didn't give them any information the whole night and after three rolled around Natasha put herself to bed. She didn't need bags under her eyes on top of the stress she would have to be hiding during this meeting. Her looks helped things go smoothly and that was about the only thing still working toward her advantage right now. Everything else had gone terribly wrong and she was a little peeved about how shitty things were right off the bat. It wasn't like Clint to completely tear things up like this so fast. He was usually the cautious one, the one who didn't cause unneeded trouble for her or any other agents who might be on mission with them. That was one of the reasons she loved having him as a partner.

She was changing into yet another very close-fitting dress at eleven the next morning after some much needed sleep and recovery time and Clint was busy keeping an eye on their guest. She fluffed her hair with the dryer before running a flat iron through it. Straightened out like this it reached well below her shoulder blades and shimmered in the lights from the ceiling. She pinned it into an elegant chignon against her right ear, tweaking the bangs a bit as she did until they rested just above her right eye. It was one of her more subdued looks she only used when going into meetings like this. Playing an heiress meant actually looking like you had money. The dress was probably worth a few hundred dollars and the shoes were more than likely close to the same price. She didn't ever look at the bills from these missions, S.H.I.E.L.D would cover the expenses and she knew they wouldn't say anything to her. She relied on her looks for more than a few of her missions before resorting to her…other skills.

Tonight's dress was black and hugged her body. Her shoulders were bare, the straps of the dress resting on her upper arms and creating a solid line across her chest just above her breasts. It was a simple little thing but still held that certain appeal most men couldn't seem to resist. She supposed it could be called sexual appeal since it left little to the imagination. The way the fabric settled on her body was almost embarrassing really. She might as well have been walking around in her underwear or nothing at all with how tight this dress was.

"Are you sure you want to go to this thing when we've practically been blown already? I can't go in with you as backup," Clint was leaning against the door frame to her room, looking worried about this whole situation. She didn't know why he was so worried. She'd gone in alone on more than one occasion and everything worked out fine, today would be no different.

She smiled at him in the mirror, putting on a pair of dangling diamond earrings, "I can handle it, Clint. I've done it before. What's the matter? You don't usually worry _this_ much. Relax, you'll be on the roof of the parking garage across the street, right? If anything happens I have faith you can cover me until I'm clear."

He shook his head with a ruthless little grin and pushed off the frame, moving toward her as she stood and stepped into her heels, "You have a lot of faith in me, Tasha."

Natasha smiled a little more and winked at him, "It's well placed."

Clint's smile dampened a bit at her words as he zipped up the back of her dress, "How do you know? How do you know you can place that much faith in me?"

She turned with a small frown in her eyes and on her face. She placed a hand on his shoulder gently, "What's wrong, Clint?"

He sighed and stepped away from her, a strained smile on his face now, "It's nothing. Come on, you don't want Nutian to start getting suspicious of you because you show up late to your first meeting."

Natasha sighed, shook her head, but dropped the subject as she grabbed the small clutch off the dresser. She took one last look in the mirror, brushing a hand down the dress to keep it smooth, "Okay, let's go."

Clint gave a swift nod, "I'll be right behind you."

Natasha smiled and left the room. She looked completely unarmed to the untrained eye but the pins in her hair could double as weapons should the need arise, that or lock picks, and she had a dagger pressed flat to the skin of her thigh. Her clutch wasn't quite big enough to hold any weapons but she could manage with the dagger if things went bad. Clint had his arrows and a birds; eye view if things went south and no, the pun was not intended. She would be fine but that still wouldn't make the foreboding feeling go away. She felt that things were going bad but she wasn't entirely sure why, and that made her more nervous than anything else right now. She never got these bad feelings unless there was some warranted reason. Maybe it was just because she arrived to a very drunk Clint who already had a tail and he didn't even realize it. It was a lot different than any of their other missions.

She glanced over her shoulder at Clint, her finger pushing the down arrow for the elevator, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Clint's frown deepened and his brows knit together, "I'm fine. Why do you keep asking me that?"

She sighed, gave a little shrug and shook her head, "Nothing."

She put a crimson smile on her face and stepped into the open elevator doors. She turned and the last thing she saw before the doors slid shut was Clint's cocky grin sliding into place.


	4. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Avengers, Black Widow, Hawkeye, or anything else related to them. That is all on Marvel (lucky ducks).**

**A/N: Well, I feel like this chapter is maybe a little bit better than the last one, I was a bit of a meanie and left you guys with a cliffie…dun dun duuuuunnnn! I don't think it's all that bad of a cliffie but I will let y'all decide on that! Again, reviews are WONDERFUL! They keep me motivated and ready to write! ^_^ ENJOY!**

Clint wasn't feeling as confident as he pretended. This mission had been a problem from the start. The moment he stepped onto the tarmac at the airport in Beijing he should have just turned right back around and gone home. Let some other agent handle this. Of course, if he couldn't handle it then no one else could either. Except maybe Natasha. She was here now so he should be feeling like things were going better, like they would handle this as usual and never have to think about this disastrous mission again. Budapest had been bad but so far this was worse. His only asset was dead and he couldn't even get within one hundred feet of Nutian's mansion without being gunned down. Natasha was going in alone on this one and he hated that more than he thought he would, seeing as she had gone in on more than one mission alone and she'd come out on top. This would be no different, right?

The cocky smile he gave her as the elevator doors slid shut was more out of habit and less because he was feeling confident. He grabbed his bow and arrows and placed them in the long black case he would carry them around in before sliding his archer glove into the zippered front pocket. Satisfied, he returned to their prisoner, making sure he was secure and unconscious, before heading back out of the room. He needed to be close behind Natasha if he was going to watch her back. He had no idea where she was meeting with Nutian today since Nutian was probably going to be overly cautious and not meet anyone at his mansion for a little while. Clint felt a little bad about that since it was his fault that she would be in an unknown location today.

He reached the lobby of the hotel, walking confidently toward the front doors, the hood of his jacket on his head and somewhat concealing his face. Natasha was sliding into a long black limousine in the front drive, glancing briefly toward the lobby where he stood before the door was shut and she was gone. He picked up his pace a bit, reaching the circle drive as the limo turned right out of the lot. He waved over the valet, handed him the ticket for his bike, and waited rather impatiently for the boy to return. He could still see the limo's taillights from where he stood but he knew that wouldn't last much longer. They could turn off the main road at any second. He tapped his foot impatiently, glancing toward the garage and muttering under his breath in annoyance. This was the biggest problem with staying in fancy hotels like this. Valets slowed everything down.

Finally, the valet came back to the drive with his black Ducati and Clint let out a huff of annoyance before taking the handlebars and slinging his leg over the seat. His bag was now on his back now, a comfortable weight after so many years, and finally he was able to set off. He didn't pay any attention to the other vehicles working around the circular drive; he simply wove in and out of the vehicles until he reached the main road. The limousine was almost one mile away now, the left turn signal blinking lazily as the vehicle slowly rounded the corner.

Clint wove through the last few vehicles in his way and rounded the corner. He kept back after that, never drawing too close to the limousine so as not to tip the driver off that he was tailing him. He didn't need Natasha to be in as much trouble as he already was with Nutian and his men. They really needed this mission to go off without a hitch or they would be in some serious trouble. Fury wouldn't be too happy if his two best agents couldn't pull this mission off because that meant no one else could. That would sit fairly badly with their eye-patch wearing boss. They'd be lucky if they ever went on a mission again if they screwed up here. Clint wasn't in the mood to lose his job today. Maybe next week when he was in a bad mood or something.

They rounded another corner and a large warehouse loomed over the road just ahead. The limousine slowed, turning into an underground parking garage and disappearing from sight. He cursed under his breath, there was a manned gate blocking the entrance to the garage. No way inside without arousing suspicion and he was fairly certain the guard was one of Nutian's men from before. He had a black eye and his arm was in a sling. Clint wouldn't be welcome there. He'd be shot the second they saw his face, no questions asked and no fucks given.

Plan B then. He always hated resorting to plan B because that meant plan A had gone sideways and everything was screwed up. Well, not everything he supposed since Natasha was inside and he hadn't heard any gunshots yet. Or Russian expletives over the comm unit yet. That had to be a good sign, right? Natasha wasn't going commando and fighting her way out of there. Yet. So he looped casually around the garage and to an abandoned warehouse just beyond. He parked his bike in the shadows of what must have once been a busy loading bay, and hurried to the top floor of the building. Hopefully, the meeting would be taking place in the warehouse like he assumed and he would have a perfect shot into the building. He needed to see what was happening.

He set the case with his bow and arrows down on a patch of slightly less filthy concrete near a shattered window and grabbed the sniping scope from the back zippered pocket. He slipped the small black scope onto the ledge of the window, keeping low and out of the sun as he scanned from window to window along the warehouse wall. He could make out about ten of Nutian's men from where he was sitting, all of them armed and looking ready for a fight. Their faces were set in scowls and the few among them with bruised eyes and cheeks looked ready to shoot anyone who tried speaking to them. He smirked a bit; he couldn't help feeling a little proud of his handiwork. At least Nutian knew he wasn't someone to be messed with unnecessarily. His men would be more cautious with him now. They would not charge him like before. That had been stupid on their part.

His mind snapped back to the present as a very familiar head of red hair came into view. Natasha was smiling demurely, playing her part without a hitch. Nutian came into view at the other end of the room, immediately taken in by her long, bare legs and slightly over exposed chest. She broadened her smile, a flirty and sultry edge creeping into her expression as she offered him her hand. He kissed her knuckles, his eyes glued to her face the whole time and she laughed at something he said. Clint wanted to barf, honestly. Watching Natasha wrap men around her finger never became any less nauseating. Ever.

Natasha's voice broke through over the comm unit, finally gaining his attention for the first time. Her French accent was back in place, the flirty edge leaking from her smile into her words, "Bonjour, Monsieur Nutian. I am grateful you are willing to meet on such short notice."

Nutian smiles broadly, slipping Natasha's hand into the crook of his elbow and keeping his hand pressed over her fingers, "But of course. When one such as you asks for a meeting I can hardly refuse. Any chance to see a face such as yours cannot be ignored."

Natasha giggled, the sound girly and yet womanly all at once and Nutian wraps himself a little tighter around her finger, "You are too kind, Monsieur."

He shakes his head, "Not at all. Beautiful women should be complimented frequently. They deserve it."

Natasha's chuckle sends shivers down Clint's spine. He'd heard that chuckle once or twice but not since the mission in Budapest. That chuckle is the most intimate sound Natasha can make and she only ever uses it on missions when everything is riding on her performance. Nutian seems to be just as affected by this sudden mood change from her as his smile turns a little more wolfish, "Perhaps we can continue this meeting in my office? My men can arrange everything to be transported while we…discuss the terms of our deal."

Talk about wanting to vomit. Clint's nausea just spiked about fifty degrees and he could see the way Natasha stiffened in her shoulders. Her face displayed none of this tenseness though and neither did her voice as she leaned into Nutian, "Je suis sûr que vous êtes un très bon négociateur."

Clint rolls his eyes slightly, the smirk back on his face as Natasha gives Nutian the kind of reaction he is wanting. She definitely knows how to keep a man wanting more from her. He's been a victim of her charms twice. One in Budapest and once just after the battle with Loki. Both of those seem very distant now, very far away from the here and now. They had become distant since that last encounter, mostly because Clint was pushing her away. He wouldn't deny that he was the one shoving her out of his life. It was what he did when he felt things were becoming too close, too personal. Natasha was definitely too close and way too personal.

A door opened and Clint looked back in time to see Natasha stepping into a small office off the main room. There were no windows into the office and Clint cursed. She would be completely on her own in there. He knew she could handle herself but he always worried. She was his partner, for better or for worse. Being partners was a lot like being married because no matter what the circumstances, you were always there for each other and you had to have complete trust in one another. If he didn't have trust in Natasha they would have died a long time ago.

With a sigh he turned his gaze from the closed office door and focused back in on the men who were carrying black bags from the building out to the limousine Natasha had arrived in. Clint assumed that the bags being carried from the building meant that this was Nutian's main warehouse. Clint wasn't really sure why Nutian would have a meeting in his main facility but this made their job easier at least. They could burn this place to the ground, torch Nutian's place with him in it, and be out of here by this time tomorrow. Clint smiled a bit, that would be nice. Being home on the Hellicarrier was really the only thing on Clint's mind at the moment.

"дерьмо!" Natasha's voice was harsh in his ear and that was when he noticed the faint sounds of a struggle. Clint cursed out loud this time, pulling out his bow and arrows and sighting the office door, waiting and willing for it to open.

It didn't. The sounds of struggling grew softer and Natasha's curses grew weaker until everything went silent. And then the door opened.

**Je suis sûr que vous êtes un très bon négociateur =I'm sure you're a very good negotiator. **

**Дерьмо = Shit**

**Well? Thoughts? Opinions? Ridicule? I will accept them all! Next chapter should be up in the next few days hopefully!**


	5. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Avengers, Black Widow, Hawkeye, or anything else related to them. That is all on Marvel (lucky ducks).**

Natasha though the mission was going fairly well. Nutian was already practically drooling on her the moment he laid eyes on her and his men were not much better. This was going to be much easier than she'd originally thought. Clint made it seem so difficult at first because he had a rather rude welcome but not many men were worried about a woman coming along to take them down. Especially not one like her who walked around in stilettos and form-fitting dresses. She'd been underestimated by men more than once and she often could use that to her advantage. After all, when a man was around a beautiful woman there was usually only one thing on his mind. Natasha was very good at putting those thoughts into men's minds. She wasn't being overconfident about it that was just the way things usually were. She walked in and all coherent thought vanished from her target's mind until it was too late.

So when Nutian said they "talk" in his office, she was more than happy to keep the man happy for a little while longer. She could kill him easier if it was behind closed doors. She wouldn't have to worry about his men this way. They wouldn't dare disturb their master when he was in the middle of entertaining a woman. So she wasn't as on guard as she should have been. In fact, she was probably more relaxed than she had been in months. She blamed the sound of Clint's steady breathing in her ear for the sudden lack in self-awareness. It had been a few weeks since she'd had him with her on a mission and hearing his breath in her ear reminded her of times when their relationship wasn't quite so strained. When he looked at her with eyes that weren't guarded and hiding things from her. When his laugh wasn't quite so strained and the wrinkles on his face were from smiling and not from frowning. That was why Nutian was able to catch her off guard so easily.

The prick of a needle jabbing into her neck automatically drew a Russian expletive from her lips and she saw the sadistic little smile on Nutian's face. He slapped her across the face and she stumbled, some sort of sedative working its way through her system. Her body was growing heavy, her eyes dropping, and her mind was growing fuzzy. She grabbed the back of a wooden chair, attempting to pull the dagger from the sheath against her thigh. Nutian smirked and smacked her across the face once more and she fell to the floor this time, the chair coming with her. She groaned softly, unable to stand back up now that she was down. Nutian stood over her, "I am not a stupid man and I am not blind either. I would recognize the Black Widow anywhere. My men have memorized your face and your movements ever since you resurfaced in New York. We are smarter than your precious S.H.I.E.L.D thinks."

Natasha felt her eyes widen. No one knew she was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Fury had worked to ensure her name would never turn up should anyone start investigating their list of agents. She was supposed to be like a ghost, drifting and helping where she was needed but unknown to anyone on the outside. She felt her eyes slipping closed now and she heard Clint curse in her ear before everything faded out around her. This mission was definitely not going as planned.

~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~

The first thing that came back to Natasha was sound. She could hear voices, muffled but there, around her. They were speaking in Chinese as far as she could tell but her mind couldn't quite keep up with their words just yet. She groaned softly, her head lolling forward against her chest, and felt her brows furrow. She winced, her head pounding now that she was coming back into reality. Her mouth tasted like cotton balls, like she hadn't had anything to drink for days. She lifted her head slowly, afraid the pounding would only grow worse and that would just add to the crappiness of this entire situation. She had to blink once her head was raised though, the lights around her bright and blinding. She huffed out in annoyance. Waking up after being drugged had to be her least favorite experience in the whole entire world. That and getting shot. Nothing was worse than getting shot.

"Finally awake are we?" Natasha very nearly groaned again at the sound of Nutian's annoying little voice above her. She lifted her eyes to meet his, her hair falling over her face now that it was no longer in the neat little chignon at her ear. Men could never understand how much time and effort went into making her hair stay in those damn chignons.

"You should practice your bedside manner," Natasha said, her Russian accent leaking into her words a bit as her anger and annoyance began to take over. At least she had practice with these kinds of situations. Making small talk with sadistic drug smugglers wasn't something she overly proud of but it came in handy on more than one occasion, "You're supposed to treat women kindly, or did your mother never teach you that?"

Nutian smirked, his face pinching up in amusement, "Women who deserve respect do not go around killing people."

Natasha almost laughed, "I think women who can kill deserve the most respect."

Nutian bent down, his hands resting on the armrests of the chair she was tied to, "I prefer my women a little more…delicate."

Natasha rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Of course you do. Easier to manipulate, right?

Nutian sighed and stepped away from her, shaking his head as he did so, "That and they don't try to kill me when I'm least expecting it. Luckily, I knew you would be coming for me soon."

She frowned, cocking her head to the side, "How?"

Nutian smiled and glanced over at her with amusement, "I have many resources. They were more than willing to give your name and picture when I went into business with them. And they were willing to tell me who your partner is. That was why I was expecting you, little spider. Hawkeye shows up on my doorstep practically and not even a day later I'm receiving word that a rich French heiress with red hair wants to make a deal with me. Now, call me paranoid, but somehow I just knew that heiress was you. And I knew that capturing you was in my best interests. After all, many of my clients would be willing to pay a heavy sum of money for you."

Natasha barked a laugh, "You're very confident in yourself. Your sources are a little behind schedule. Hawkeye and I haven't been full-time partners in months. We're solo acts now. He was too weak for me, too slow and too soft. We've separated."

Nutian paused, looking over at her with confused eyes, "Then why are you here now?"

Natasha's smile turned coy and a little sarcastic, "Your sources didn't tell you?"

Now Nutian looked angry, his face contorting slightly. He was back in her face, his hands gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles were white, "Why are you here?"

Natasha leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowed, "Come on, you haven't figured it out yet?"

Nutian's hand slapped her face hard and she winced, blood dripping from her now split lip. She gritted her teeth and turned back toward Nutian, "Did I pinch a nerve?"

Nutian grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes, "_Why_?"

"To kill you. That is my job after all," Natasha ground out, her eyes hard as she tried not to look like she wasn't completely bored with this whole situation. Nutian had to be one of the least scary bad guys she'd ever dealt with. Tiny, little Asians just didn't scare her after being brought up by big, bulky Russians.

Nutian smacked her again, his voice harsh, "Well you failed didn't you?"

Natasha smirked, biting at her lip to keep the blood from dripping down her chin even more, "And what makes you think that?"

~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~*AVG*~

Clint paced back and forth across the hotel room. He was muttering to himself, a map spread across the dining room table and their current guest locked up in the spare room. Natasha had already been gone by the time he managed to get to the office. He'd killed six more of Nutian's men on his way into the building but none of it had meant anything because Natasha was gone. Missing. Shit. He'd put a call in to Fury a few minutes ago saying they had some things they seriously needed to discuss. Now, he was waiting for a response and trying desperately to figure out some plan to locate and extract Natasha. This mission was blown. Now they simply had to find some way to get out of this damn country alive.

The phone rang. Clint felt his heart slam to a stop in his chest before racing about fifty times faster than normal when the readout said it was Fury. He knew he was going to be in trouble but that wasn't what was making Clint so nervous right now. It was what Fury would say when he asked what their next course of action was. He pushed the little green button, "Barton."

"What happened?" Fury sounded pissed already and Clint hadn't even started in on his story. This was going to be one painful conversation.

"Agent Romanoff has been captured. Her identity was compromised and by the time I reached her location she was already gone. Nutian took her," Clint's voice was clipped, to the point. He hated these phone calls.

"Do you know where Nutian could have taken her?" Fury didn't like these calls either.

"No, sir. But I have one of his men here. I could interrogate, see if he spills any locations S.H.I.E.L.D does not already have intel on. She could be close."

"Or she could be dead or halfway across the country. Barton, your orders are to remain the same. Destroy the warehouse and kill Nutian. Once that is done, return to the Hellicarrier. We can locate Agent Romanoff once you are back on American soil." _Click_.

Barton cursed, chunked the phone across the room. It shattered and the pieces skid across the wood floors. The action didn't make him feel any better. Fury's words were banging around in his head. How could he simply forget about Natasha until after the mission was over? If she wasn't dead now, she would be by then. There was still a chance to save her. A chance to bring her back. She didn't give up on him when he was under Loki's magical mind control; he wasn't going to give up on her now. The circumstances were different but the principle was the same: don't leave your partner behind.

He would find her.


End file.
